Aftermath
by elfx9
Summary: In a moment of reckless passion, Ste and Brendan sleep together again, while Ste is catering for a Chez Chez event. This is the aftermath, hastily thrown together by myself because I haven't posted anything for a while!


His heart beats about a mile a minute. This is wrong. This is so wrong. And yet so… right.

For what feels like forever, Ste has made it his primary aim NOT to end up back in this position. Not this _literal _position… as it happens, this literal position feels pretty fucking good, but the person who's witnessing it… that's what he was supposed to avoid.

But as Brendan slowly manoeuvres his way inside Ste's body, emitting a series of sighs and grunts and gasps from the two of them… Ste no longer cares. He's wanted this for so long. He probably never stopped wanting it, although he'd have strongly opposed such a suggestion just a month or so ago. But as he and Brendan start moving together; their bodies rocking against one another, Ste's insides fire up… like his body has _finally _got what it has so long craved.

As always with Brendan, Ste loses his mind in the sex. Any thoughts of their past, of their future, of the danger, of the consequences… they all evaporate into nothing. He's left with nothing but feeling – their foreheads pressed against each other, the sweat mixing together, then Brendan's lips in his hair, Brendan's fingers on his thighs, touching his neck, and then the holding back of Ste's head to stop it hitting the wall.

There's something different about Brendan today. Or perhaps it's just generally… it's been over a year since this last happened. Ste can't really put his finger on what it is… but it's like when Brendan holds onto Ste he does it with an intensity that's alarming. Because it's almost a _distressed _intensity. As if he thinks this is the last time he'll get to do this.

Or maybe he was trying to avoid it as well.

It makes Ste cling on harder; his arms wrapped tight around Brendan's neck as Brendan's thrusting builds faster and harder. They're making a lot of noise, but neither of them cares. The music from the club should cover it anyway.

Ste feels his insides burning with desire, his heart hammering in his ears – so strong he can barely see straight. He hears – as if somewhere in the distance – his own laboured breaths rising to levels that would make him blush in any conscious state. And then Brendan's mouth is hard on his, muffling his cries as they both climax, and the office walls seem to rock and blur around them.

Afterwards, they're both quiet. They remain in their naked collapsed positions across the desk, gathering their breath and their thoughts. And thoughts are never ever a good thing. So many unanswered questions, and so much unresolved. Too much to even summon into words at this point.

It's Ste who speaks first.

"Are you alright?"

And it's such a stupid question because, no, neither of them are alright really, are they? And yet at the same time they've both just had the best sex they've had in years, and their bodies are still drained and reeling from it… their minds still blissfully numb.

But as the numbness fades, Ste's left with a low feeling in this pit of his stomach. Guilt, because Doug is at home and he's been calling him. Concern, because as Brendan puts his clothes back on, he's looking at Ste with the most confused and open expression Ste's ever seen on him. He wants Ste to say or do something, but Ste hasn't got a clue what to say or do. He swallows, hard.

"We should get back," he croaks, "They'll be wanderin' where we are."

"I think they know where we are." Brendan says lowly. His expression is turning dark. Everybody out there saw Ste follow him in here… and that was about an hour ago. If Ste walks away now, they'll all know of Brendan's rejection. Joel, Walker, Cheryl… they'll all detect the signs of broken humiliation in him. His weakness brutally and publically exposed.

Ste's face turns red as Brendan says it, and he fishes in the pocket of his jeans and brings out his phone. As he checks it, Brendan sees his hands are shaking. No wonder. Brendan's are too. This room and the tension it brings are suffocating.

"You can go." Brendan grunts, almost inaudibly, "If you need to, you can go."

He says it because he can't bear this … he can't bear to watch Steven check his phone, and he can't bear to watch Steven go cold as he realises he's made the biggest mistake of his life.

"I've still got more food to do yet." Ste reasons. In actual fact, the third round of appetizers should have been circulating round the guests of Chez Chez about half an hour ago. They're probably spoiled and cold now. Rotten remains of something that could have so special.

"What, you gonna serve it like that?" Brendan's eyes trail down Ste's half-naked body. He forces a smirk to play on his lips. Flirty… nonchalant. Keep it nonchalant and it will make it easier for both of you.

"No." Ste displays a mischievous smile – just briefly. It disappears quickly though as he reaches for his shirt and pulls it back on. Then switches his phone off and shoves it back in his pocket.

His fingers twist nervously around each other. The magnitude of the situation is not lost on him… and now he'll have to walk out there in front of all those people… all those people who know what he's just done…

Brendan coughs, clearing his throat, and walks to the door. He turns back to Steven once more, and states "Keep it casual, yeah?"

He pulls the door open and the blasting music and dancing bodies surround them once more – a brutal interruption to the comparative quiet of the office. Brendan leads the way, Ste close behind him, and both do their best to appear casual as they pass the knowing glances of Cheryl and Walker. Upon reaching the bar, Brendan immediately passes Ste a beer, and a glass of whisky for himself. He practically devours it; his shaking fingers clasping hard around the glass as he pours himself a second.

"Brendan?" Ste says again, fiddling with his un-touched beer bottle nervously "Are we gonna be alright?"

Gulp. Brendan lowers the glass and sighs. "Course we are."

Steven can hurt him. Steven can use him, and then discard him. It won't stop Brendan loving him. Fucking nothing will; he's learnt that the hard way. And it's no less than he deserves at any rate. He gets that. He gets that this is part of the game, a piece of revenge. At least Steven has the courtesy to look guilty, which is something Brendan never did when this worked the other way round.

"D'you wanna go somewhere more quiet?"

Brendan blinks. What does Steven mean by that? Is he up for round two, or is he planning to let Brendan down gently, because fuck that if he is. Brendan already knows the score.

"And do what, exactly?"

"I just thought we could talk." Ste says.

Brendan can't help it. The bitterness is seeping in. His sarcastic defences pour out of him; "What… you tell me how I make you feel, you force me to do the same, and then you fuck off back to Douglas so you can both live your little…"

"Oh, FUCK OFF then if you don't want to!"

Ste's anger seems to come from nowhere. He pushes his beer roughly aside, his shoulders rising and falling with suppressed emotion as he storms away from Brendan, towards the stairs, out of Brendan's life again. Furious with him, again. Let down by him, again.

"Steven, wait…"

And Brendan finds himself chasing him, again. Christ, why does he keep finding himself doing this? He should make this whole saga as quick and painless for himself as possible, and letting Steven storm back to Douglas is the easiest way to do that.

But he still grabs him, and pulls him back.

"Ok," he pants, "Ok, alright, we'll go talk. What's _wrong_ with you?!"

Ste's eyes display the hints of upcoming tears, but he's long since learnt how to stop them flowing. He's stronger now.

"I'm not just here for you to fuck and toss away, Brendan!"

"Wha… I… I know that!" Brendan insists, stunned. Course he fucking knows that. Isn't he the one who WANTED more? Wasn't Steven the one with his fucking letters, and his fucking other boyfriend? Doesn't he even realise how much Brendan wants another chance to make this work? That Brendan wishes that everyday? That he regrets ever screwing it up? Does Brendan have to spell it out for him?!

"Okay, good." Ste pouts, "so when I say I want to talk, will you just fuckin' _talk_ to me?! I've got stuff I wanna say!"

Brendan swallows. His fingers are still clasped tightly around Steven's arm, even though he shows no signs of being about to bolt again. "Okay. Yeah. Me too."

"What?!"

"I love you."

Steven's eyes widen. Brendan doesn't even know where the fuck that came from. That's not what he had in mind to say at all. _"Stop screwing with me."_ was one of the things. He wanted to tell Steven that he's a life-wrecker, a head-fucker, a cock-teaser… but not … _that_. Not now… not when things are already so hard.

"Lets go back to mine." Ste croaks, almost inaudibly. "It's quiet there."

He doesn't say another word. He turns and exits the club, and doesn't look back to see if Brendan is following him, but only puts his trust down that he will. They walk all the way to the council estate in silence, and Ste lets them in in silence.

Ste doesn't know what he's doing; he's just going through the motions. He has no plan, no strategy, no plans or _what if's_. He's just doing what he's needed to do for a long time. They're going to talk this out. And it's going to make or break them.


End file.
